The Culling Song
by nobleignominy
Summary: What happened to Gwaine before he ran into Merlin and Arthur? Of course it involves alcohol and women, but also a change of heart for our generally selfish protagonist when he happens upon a demon with a taste for children.


**Gwaine's pretty much my favorite character (second to Merlin himself), so I felt the need to do a Gwaine centric fic. This series is centered entirely around Gwaine and what he was doing before he ran into Merlin. This takes place at the very end of season 2. Eventually I foresee it getting a bit AU when he does end up meeting Merlin. Thanks for reading, please drop me a review!**

**##**

Chapter 1: _Ignite_

Gwaine groaned loudly as the drapes were flung violently open, allowing the sunshine to bite at his half opened eyes. They deemed mutiny against him and began to throb maddeningly. He rolled over into the pillow even as he felt the blankets being pulled off of him.

"Her father will be in soon, sir, and I doubt he'd be so pleased to see his daughter slumming it," came a familiar voice from his right. Gwaine groaned again and felt beside him to see if his partner from the previous evening was still there. His hand came into contact with a bare bosom and he grinned in spite of himself before realizing he was naked in front of the woman's sister, whom, if he recalled correctly, he owed money.

He scrambled for the blanket which she had yanked off of him. "Do you mind, woman?"

"Oh, not at all. I've got to get these to the wash," she said, grabbing a fistful of the blanket and wrenching it back. She left him a single sheet. "I've laid your clothes there, sneak out the back when you're dressed. If I were you I'd do it before she woke up." He couldn't recall her name, but then, glancing back at his mistress - he wasn't sure of hers either. It wasn't unusual for him to awaken in foreign settings, but the pain in his head told him that the night had been particularly wild. But he'd been celebrating! He'd made a new enemy in Lord Bayard of Mercia, wasn't that worth a pint or six?

She left then, and Gwaine felt his partner stretch out in the bed beside him. He glanced beside him to see her pale gold hair laying placidly over an unblemished back. He tucked a bit of it behind her ear with a roguish grin and said, "Morning, sleepin' beauty."

"Oh it is! This is wonderful, you can meet my father!" she said, blue eyes widening gleefully. Gwaine swallowed as he sat up too fast, and the mead very nearly rose in his throat. Usually he was a bit more careful at selecting conquests. He avoided fair maidens like this because they nearly always had expectations - expectations that Gwaine hoped never to have to meet. Running a hand through his now matted brown hair, he smiled at her.

"That sounds... excellent, um," he began, searching for her name.

"Meliara!" she offered, tone full of excitement. Her voice was breathy and scattered, almost as though it was caught in the wind. The effect was actually quite annoying and he wondered why he hadn't realized it the night before. Lifting up what remained of the sheets a tick, he was quickly reminded why it hadn't bothered him earlier. She was the very embodiment of physical perfection. Kind, too. Could probably even cook. "Gwaine, I promise I'll make you the happiest man in the world." Well, probably not. Biting the inside of his cheek, he carefully grinned, nodding at her. He jumped out of bed as quickly as his swimming vision would allow in order to put some pants on. He had really hoped she wouldn't remember his name.

"Right, listen, Meliara, I've got an errand to run real quick this morning. But I'll be back before you can say "Merlin's beard," alright?" he said, not sure why that had struck him. Sounded like something though, didn't it? He pulled on the brown muslin shirt that the woman's sister had left for him. He didn't think it was actually _his_, either. It couldn't have been, his had bloodstains all around the neck. This one was cleaned and intact. Gwaine kissed Meliara's forehead before whisking out the back door as he had been instructed.

There was a low growl as he left the home and he was greeted by a mangy black dog with bared teeth. It skin was hanging loosely off parched bones, Gwaine appearing as a perfect sort of meal. "Woah, nice doggy," he said, holding up his hands in surrender.

"Down, Stan," Gwaine heard from beside him. Her sister was there again, still tending to the laundry. The dog continued to bare his teeth, but didn't move any closer to Gwaine.

"You may want to feed your dog, miss," Gwaine said.

"She's going to be positively hateful for the next few days," she replied, ignoring his comment. She was pinning up a purple gown to a line. She looked much older than her sister, though probably closer to his own age. Like most men, Gwaine was the sort to crave young flesh. He made no excuses for himself, either, though he never meant to do any real damage. "You sure you don't want to marry her? Get her out of her father's hair?"

"She seems terribly lovely and all, but I don't think she'd really like me in the long run," Gwaine said, grinning at her.

"Oh don't lie. She's a menace. But I suppose you're right, as well, you're not the settling down type," she replied.

"I'm sorry, I don't really recall your name," Gwaine said, even as he knew he ought not to be dawdling so close to the door. The last thing he needed was Meliara to catch him flirting with her sister. All the same, he picked up another gown from her bucket of wet clothes and helped her with the pins, trying to ignore Stan the best he could. The woman watched him do it suspiciously. "You know if I'm to pay you back, I really ought to know it."

"I'm surprised you remember our game at all. From the looks of it you can't actually pay, so I don't see what good burdening you with a name will do," she said, putting her hands on her hips. She was Meliara's opposite in every way. She was curvier, with wider hips where Meliara was thin and soft. This woman was shapely but hardy, too, with a darker olive complexion that gave the impression she worked for a living. There was nothing _particularly_ lovely about her, except, perhaps, for her eyes which were very large and such a warm brown.

"Yes, but I should at least know the name of my rescuer, shouldn't I?" Gwaine pressed.

"I guess it'll remain a mystery," she said, raising an unamused eyebrow at him as she heard yelling from inside her straw thatched home. It seemed that Meliara's father had found his daughter unclothed and soiled and was now tearing apart the room in search of Gwaine. "I think that's your cue to dash."

"Right," Gwaine said, nodding shortly and turning around quickly. He stopped before he'd gotten ten feet and called back to the sister, "By the way, where am I?"

She appeared to laugh at this, and said, "A small village called Door. We're on the borders of Camelot, Saxon, and Mercia." He frowned, but recalled hearing of such a place. Nodding and giving her one last grin, he headed in the other direction, wondering which territory might be the safest for him to travel to at all.

####

He tried to leave Door, honestly he did, but his head had been throbbing so vehemently that he wasn't quite able to clamber onto his stolen horse properly and was quickly found by the owner of Door's only tavern - whom he had apparently opened quite a large tab under. Gwaine ended up behind the tavern owner's counter, pouring drinks for two days. Unfortunately during those two days, Meliara found him and led her father there to meet him.

"I know, love, and as soon as I've paid off my debt to Goran over there, we'll find us a nice place of our own," he lied. He wasn't quite sure what else to do. Not that he hadn't been in a very similar situations before.

"But how long will that _take_?" Meliara whined, as if she had been waiting months rather than two days.

"Oh a few more weeks at the most, sweetheart," he said. Gwaine was surprisingly patient with women. Then again, he had a rather sexist view of them, didn't he? The ones he catered to were usually beautiful, revered creatures with heads full of straw dust. "Why don't you go home and join your sister for dinner? I'm sure your father's worried."

"My sister? I don't have a sis- Oh! You're talking about Pamela," Meliara said. Gwaine wondered now how he could have been so stupid as to think the women had been sisters. The way she had cared for Meliara had smacked of siblings, but they really looked nothing alike. He began pouring a pint for a pair of men who had walked into the tavern. Irritable thugs by the looks of them, Gwaine made a note of it to keep an eye on them - then wondered why he cared.

"Pamela, huh? Is she staying with you then?" Gwaine asked.

"Oh she was. She said she was looking for her husband, said he'd disappeared. Offered to clean and cook for us if we'd put her up for a week. Efficient woman, but a bit... distant. I think her husband left her for another woman," Meliara speculated, lowering her voice at such a scandal. She was certainly a conniving little hypocrite, wasn't she? Gwaine smiled at her, refilled her glass and edged toward the other end of the bar. It wasn't that he was in a hurry to get out of Door, he didn't have anywhere to be, but Meliara was so clingy. He supposed a less cowardly man would tell it to her straight, but unfortunately that was not him. He just assumed disappear.

"Hullo, gorgeous," one of the thugs said as soon as Gwaine began to tend to another customer. He hadn't recognized them, not that he had been here all of two days, but Gwaine got a distinctly unpleasant vibe from the two. Door was a small village, the tavern (which didn't really even have a name), catered to the village's families rather than drunken oafs like himself, which was why Meliara had even braved it in the first place. It was the sort of place you ought to feel safe in.

"Yes, hello," Meliara said, wrinkling her nose at the taller one. Gwaine thought he looked a bit as though someone had branded a horseshoe to his face at one point.

"Would you like me to buy you another drink there, princess?"

"I've got a drink," Meliara replied. The two of them laughed. "Gwaine, I'm going to go home!" Gwaine nodded, grateful for her diligence. He had expected her to linger needlessly. As she got up to leave, though, one of the thugs grabbed her wrist. "Let me go!" Gwaine rolled his eyes at the situation. It was so bloody typical. Of course now he was responsible for the blond, wasn't he?

"Leave the lady alone, gents," Gwaine said firmly.

"We're not botherin' her," the taller one said, a laugh on the tip of his tongue.

"Fantastic, then let her go," he said. Looking twice at him, Gwaine was beginning to regret goading the man. While he didn't look that much older than Gwaine himself, he had a towering frame, with close cropped hair and angry blue eyes.

The man's companion revealed a toothless grin and yanked Gwaine foward by the scruff of his neck. "How's about you pour us two more and keep your mouth shut, barkeep?"

Gwaine laughed at this. He never looked for a fight, but people were rather firm about leaving him no choice, weren't they? Besides, two against one - those were good odds, weren't they? He headbutted the toothless one, and quickly regretted the decision as his head began to throb. He didn't have time to think of that though, because his tall friend jumped over the bar and Meliara began screaming incessantly. A tankard full of mead flew his way and Gwaine's heart broke a little at the sight.

"You lot know you're still paying for this, right? I've got a hell of a debt to work off as it is," he said, ducking as the tall one's fist aimed for his jaw. "That's a no, then? Fabulous." Gwaine grabbed a platter from the bar and hit the man over the head with it, narrowly dodging another punch. He could still hear Mel's panicked voice and wondered why she hadn't had enough mind to make a run for it. The toothless thug had decided to fall to the floor to nurse his nose, which was streaming. Not a particularly persistent one, was he?

"I'll have your head, you gutless swine," the tall one growled.

"Gutless swine? Fair enough, but it's a bit like the pot calling the kettle black, isn't it?" Gwaine said just as he was rushed to the ground, the wind knocked out of him. He kneed the man in his stomach and both of them heaved on the floor for a moment, but Gwaine collected himself first and punched his opponent in the face, hopefully knocking him out for good. Suddenly he realized that it was a bit steamy in the tavern. Which perhaps wasn't saying much considering it was always a bit blistering in the place. The stone didn't allow for much ventilation, but this was a bit ridiculous.

He stood up and realized that the entire place had started ablaze. Meliara was cornered by a wall of flames. He didn't understand how the hell a fire of this magnitude had started in a matter of seconds. It seemed everyone else had only just noticed as well and a sloppy evacuation of the tavern had begun. Gwaine raced toward Meliara, with little idea of how he was actually going to get to her.

"Mel, just stay there, you'll be fine, I'll get you!" Gwaine shouted at her.

"I wasn't really planning on going anywhere else, was I!" she shrieked at him. Her voice was suddenly a bit less breathy now, in fact she was perfectly shrill. The fear made her act like a normal human being. Go figure.

"No need to get snappy, love," he said. Of course by this time, most of the patrons had left and Gwaine was left there to figure out how to get her on his own. He grabbed one of the bigger tables and threw it over the flames blocking Meliara, creating a bridge of sorts. "Come on, darlin', you're gonna have to jump," he said hopping onto the table and reaching out for her. She was terrified, deciding now was a good time to remain useless. "Come on, Mel!" Gwaine, jumped over the small gap and grabbed Meliara around the waist, tossing her over his shoulder in an irritable huff. "You're a real pain in me hole, girl."

Turning back around to jump over the table, the flames had already consumed his makeshift bridge and now they were both stuck there. Gwaine swore under his breath.

"Gwaine!" Mel gasped from his back.

"Is anyone still there?" Gwaine shouted, odds of survival dwindling again. He looked around for a way to cross, meanwhile his lungs were beginning to fill with smoke. Mel's screams had also began to diminish for coughing.

"Hold on, I'm coming!" he heard a familiar voice.

"Pamela is that you?"

"Step back, Gwaine," she commanded. Gwaine backed away from the fires, bumping into the wall behind him. He could make out Pamela through the other side. He heard her whisper something foreign under her breath and suddenly a wind howled through the place, subduing the hungry flames enough so that Gwaine could cross. He didn't stop to wonder how Pamela had done such a thing, it didn't matter for the moment. "Let's get her out of here!" Pamela said. He suddenly heard barking and saw the starving mutt from the other day again, it seemed to follow Pamela.

Nodding, Gwaine ran for the door, its foundations looking ready to collapse. He raced through it, Pamela and her loyal hound following close behind. He saw, as he was leaving, that the taller thug from earlier was still there, lying unconscious on the floor, probably from smoke inhalation. As he got out, he put Mel down and ran back inside.

"What the hell are you doing?" Pamela shouted after him. Gwaine ignored her and made his way to the man. It would be impossible to sling a man of the thug's size over Gwaine's back, so he resorted to pulling him along the floor, which was slowly disappearing in the flames. Coughing and pulling he managed to get the man out before the entire roof caved in.

"That was the stupidest thing I've ever seen," Pamela said.

"You're one to talk, lady luck," Gwaine retorted. A fit of coughs overtook him and he bent over trying to clear his lungs. As he did so, he realized that the air was full of screams. The entire village seemed to be drenched in flames. "What the hell is going on?"

"Dragon. Come on, they're evacuating to the forest. Mel, you can walk, right?" Gwaine looked at Meliara who was shaking in spite of the heat. Pamela wrapped an arm around her shoulders and dragged her forward.

Gwaine looked down at the thug irritably. He couldn't just leave them there with the place going up in flames around him, could he? He had been the one to knock him out in the first place. Damn his conscience! He kicked the man in the gut. "Come on, mate, get up. I can't bloody well carry you, can I?" This worked about as well as Gwaine anticipated. Pamela didn't seem to care much if the man made it out alive, she was evidently more concerned that Meliara be safe. Gwaine grabbed the bastard's arms again and began dragging. He looked up at the skies as he did so, not understanding how he could have missed the beat of wings earlier. Where the hell had a dragon come from?

####

The entire village of Door waited out the fire under the canopy of the neighboring forest. Gwaine, Meliara, Pamela, and the thug held up in the corner of the forest. Meliara had fallen into a fitful sleep at some point during the night, calling out for her father. Unfortunately neither Pamela or Gwaine had managed to find him yet. The dragon left in the wee hours of the morning, but its flames were still too hot for anyone to return.

"Why couldn't you have stopped it? I saw what you did in the pub," Gwaine asked Pamela as the sun began peaking out over the hills in the west. Meliara had nestled her head into the woman's lap and Pamela was gently stroking her blond curls. "Who are you?"

"I'm no one. You didn't see what you thought you saw, it was the smoke. A mirage," Pamela said, shrugging at him, those brown eyes of hers remaining unreadable."I'd appreciate it you'd thank me and forget about it."

"I don't care if you're a witch, I'd just like to know," Gwaine said, giving her a lopsided grin. As far as he was concerned at the moment, last night was rather unfortunate - but sort of fun all the same. He gazed out into the forest. The remainder of the villagers didn't seem to be in agreement. Many of those that he could see through the treeline were crying silently. Their homes had all been destroyed, they'd have to start again. Gwaine hadn't had a home in as long as he could remember, it was difficult to relate to their problems.

"I'm not a witch, you nosey bastard. I just... I have this ring, it sort of does things when I'm particularly emotional," she told him.

"Fine, you have a ring," Gwaine said, shrugging at her. "Wish I had a ring." There was a groan from beside him as the thug began waking up. "Oi, mate, don't sit up too quickly," Gwaine told him. He wasn't particularly concerned with the thug or Pamela right now, though he thought perhaps he should be. "So what's with that mutt of yours then?" Pamela sighed irritably.

"What is this, twenty questions? He just follows me around. I can't get rid of him, can I, Henry?" Pamela pet the beast on its back. It growled at her as well, which Gwaine was surprised at.

"I thought his name was Stan," he asked.

She shrugged. "I don't know what his name is, I keep making new ones up hoping I'll get it right. Doesn't matter anyway. Wake up, Goldilocks, you're putting my leg to sleep," Pamela said. Gwaine raised an eyebrow at the woman. She was just one big mystery. He stood up, stretching his own legs and began walking to the edge of the forest to take in the damage the dragon had left behind. Door was no more than a scorch mark. Suddenly the tears being shed all around him were louder and Gwaine threw up.

##

**Hope you all enjoyed the first chapter. Don't worry, I know you have a lot of questions, I just had to set up all the preliminaries. Feel free to leave comments/suggestions in a handy dandy review!**


End file.
